


Delectable

by hannifeederism



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Feedism, Force-Feeding, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stuffing, Weight Gain, feederism, frick frack me this i s so sinful, non-consensual feedism sums it up basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannifeederism/pseuds/hannifeederism
Summary: tl;dr Will realizes Hannibal is the Ripper, and Hannibal takes him captive.Will refuses to eat. Hannibal helps him with that.





	

"I know."

  
And it was then that Hannibal Lecter - well-liked psychiatrist, ex surgeon, colleague, friend, and, as Will Graham now knew, Chesapeake Ripper - knew that he and Will's relationship had to change.

The struggle that ensued was more brief than one might expect, given that both of the men had some amount of experience or training, with hand to hand combat. Will's emotions seethed and rose in firey waves and it clouded his vision, clouded his objective decision making in regards to his companion.

His friend.

And Hannibal could see this in the way Will's eyes were open and wild with emotion, entire body trembling with adrenaline.

Expression full of wide-eyed hurt, even as Hannibal's hands brought the lead paperweight down over his head, knocking him unconscious.

  
\---

  
The first few days in captivity were the hardest. Will refused to respond refused to sleep for more than a few minutes, refused to talk, refused to meet his captor's gaze.

He refused to eat, too.

If he was going to be a captive, he wasn't going to make this that easy.

And Hannibal did not take too kindly to this, as Will soon learned.

Two days into the fast he came to from a drug-induced haze to find himself strapped to a chair, round belly heavy and painfully bloated with whatever was being forced down his throat. Immediately he gagged, eyes dilating, yanking against his bonds. The familiar scent reached his nostrils as his companion leaned in close from behind, comforting soft voice in his ear, breath on his face. Gentle fingers gliding over his stomach. Hands caressing the stretched-tight skin as he made an disconcertingly moan-like sound at the tight pressure of it, as he couldn't talk with the tube in his mouth. He gagged, arching his back, throat convulsing as he felt the warmth of his large bloated belly making contact with his thighs over the boxer briefs as his body shifted. The voice of the man he'd called a friend murmured comforts as he struggled, tracing complex patterns slowly over his sensitive stomach.

And once again, the world faded to black.

\----

 

  
Out of necessity, and out of the desire for the force-feeding sessions to be put to an end he ate and drank the food and water provided. What else was he to do? Human meat or no (and metaphor for maintaining control over peoples bodies and lives or no), he had to eat in order to live. And, as much as this imprisoned existence could barely count as a life, he knew that his life wasn't something worth ending this quickly after something went wrong.

He noticed when he began to soften. Getting no exercise, and never leaving the cell he was kept in, Will's body began to change. The waistband of his boxers tightened over his hips and thighs. The t-shirt he wore began to stretch, seams straining over his curves, a roll of pale fat peeking out from under the white fabric regardless of if he was standing or sitting.

He refused to think about how nice it felt when Hannibal kneaded the fat of his bloated belly after every time he over-stuffed himself, whether he had to be forcibly restrained or drugged (as happened most times, after his first attempted attack) or not,

He refused to think about how he felt about the fact that the wirey bedframe of the bed in his small cell in Hannibal's cellar creaked whenever he sat on it. How he looked forward to Hannibal's meals.

He refused to accept how /turned on/ he was when the psychiatrist straddled him - strapped down to the table, belly exposed - and rubbed his body up against his captive's bloated gut as Will bit his lip till it bled, trying not to moan, his body twitching and twisting against his will.

"Don't-" Will's breath caught in his throat, voice raspy with disuse "-think that changes anything." Petty, snappy, but one small act of rebellion in all of this hell.

"If you insist," the devil murmured.

**Author's Note:**

> fml i think about this AU of mine way more than i should. (also im a little drunk so pardon weird spelling/grammar im sorry)
> 
> I'd love to write more stuff about Will's experience in this AU, let me know if you have specific ideas / things you'd like to see more of.
> 
>  
> 
> NOTE: I take hannibal feederism/feeding-related drabble requests! hmu any time (here, or on hannifeederism on tumblr).


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